


arare litus

by thunderbottle



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dissociation, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kivas Fajo is a bitchass motherfucker and i'm making a callout post on ao3.com, Mom Friend Beverly Crusher, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Aftermath, Recovery, but not ptsd it's technically acute stress disorder uwu, data is confused but he's got the spirit, more tags/characters to be added, there are so few tng tags i'm pissed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:14:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25809433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderbottle/pseuds/thunderbottle
Summary: After the events of the episode "First Contact", the crew realizes that Riker survived a lot more than just a kidnapping.(this fic does not contain description of rape/sexual assault but does reference it and deal with recovery. please be careful and think twice before reading triggering content!!!)
Relationships: Beverly Crusher & William Riker, Crew of the Starship Enterprise & William Riker, Data & William Riker, Jean-Luc Picard & William Riker, William Riker & Deanna Troi
Comments: 34
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

Beverly wasn’t exactly sure what she was expecting from Riker. She had seen the man struggle, seen him happy and confident, seen him at his lowest, but she had not once seen him sit still for this long. 

It had been three days since they had rescued him from Malcor III. Will had woken up slowly and quietly at some point during the previous night. Nothing of his physical condition was worrying her. As always, he had bounced back from grave injuries at a speed that nearly gave her whiplash. No, she wasn’t worried about that. 

What did worry her was that the man had barely said a word. 

She sat in her office and stared at him through the glass walls of the sickbay. If he noticed her observation, he didn’t react. Instead, he sat quietly against stark white sheets and stared off into nothing. He didn’t look sad, per say, but his expression and behavior seemed detached from everything around him. 

There were many words she decided should never be associated with William T. Riker. Floating to the top of the list was ‘quiet’. 

Dr. Crusher shook herself minutely. Staring at Will from a distance was not helping him, so she walked to sit and stare at him from his bedside instead. 

“Hey, Will.” He glanced over at her and managed a smile. “How’re you holding up?”

He shrugged and fidgeted where he sat. Her presence unsettled him in some way, apparently, as it seemed he could no longer find a comfortable position to sit in. He also seemed to be searching for something to say. 

“It’s alright, Will, you don’t have to speak if you don’t want to.” She was hoping to calm him down, but her words only made him more visibly uncomfortable. 

The next few moments felt like years and microseconds all at once. 

She reached out to put her hand on Will’s shoulder. He flinched backwards, but not fast enough to get away or soon enough for her to register it and back off. By the time she touched him, it was too late to go back. Will froze for just a moment, stiff and wide-eyed, before reacting. Will didn’t hit Beverly, but he did knock her arm away with enough force that it had her reeling backwards. Before she could recover, he had slipped out of his bed and onto the floor, back to the wall. 

Will looked her dead in the eye and spoke the first words she had heard from him in days. “Do _not_ touch me.” 

She kept eye contact with him steadily, doing everything in her power to keep the concern out of her expression. “Of course, Will, I’m sorry.” 

He looked away and curled in on himself slightly. 

The sickbay was relatively silent for a few minutes. The various nurses and doctors had all snuck off to their offices or holed up in the offshoot rooms to give their commander space to breathe. Beverly sat down across from him and kept very aware of the space around them. She was wary of making her patient feel trapped in the state he was in. 

“Will?”

He didn’t respond. 

“You’re safe now, we’re on the Enterprise. Everything’s going to be alright.” 

His eyes stayed wide and unfocused. Beverly knew that the way he was sitting was most likely putting too much stress on his recently-healed body. On top of being painful, there was a good chance that he was re-injuring himself.

He was also, obviously, somewhere in his mind that Beverly could not reach him. He wasn’t hyperventilating or outwardly panicking, but he was also blank and withdrawn from the space around him. She could spot the dissociation a mile away, but she wasn’t really sure what to do that would help. 

So, Beverly did the only thing she knew would help.

She called in reinforcements. 

…

It took Counselor Troi less than a minute to answer Beverly’s summon. It still felt like too long, given the current situation. If it were her choice, she would have already been in the sickbay instead of having to mediate conversations with the Malcorians and help write reports to notify Starfleet of the situation with Malcor III. 

No matter what her past (and potential future) relationship with Will, he was one of her closest friends. Being anywhere other than by his side when he needed all of them made her feel sick. The overwhelming miasma that hit her as she entered the sickbay only worsened the feeling. 

“Deanna, it’s good to see you.” Beverly’s tone was carefully in check despite the heavy concern that was hanging over her. “Would you like to come sit with us?”  
William Riker, typically a larger-than-life, level-headed commander with a seemingly endless supply of confidence, was sitting against the sickbay wall. His knees were bent against his chest and back hunched over while his arms stayed stiffly at his sides. Every part of his posture spoke of tension and anticipation. In terms of her empathetic senses, he was sending her a veritable wall of bad feelings. 

The emotion at the front of it all was a sickening detachment. It felt as though Riker had a moat of nothingness around his mind and the rest of his feelings were floating nebulously, dangerously, in the center of it. It wasn’t the worst case of dissociation she had seen, but it was certainly something to worry about.

It was nearly impossible to parse out all the complexities of it, but before she could even start, it was cut off from her. Will had glanced at her and, after realizing what her presence entailed, threw walls up around his consciousness. It didn’t block her out entirely, but it did make it much more difficult to understand his feelings. Deanna cursed herself retroactively for teaching Will the Betazoid techniques of psychic defense. 

Deanna sat next to Beverly, keeping her movements as clear and predictable as possible. She had encountered many people in a state similar to this and knew how to handle it, but the implications of _Will_ behaving that way and the implications of it were more difficult to deal with. 

The doctor looked towards her expectantly. This was Deanna’s playing field just as medicine and surgery were hers. What happened next would be up to the counsellor. 

“Beverly, have you restarted your experiments with those moss samples?”

The other woman stared at her strangely for a second and Deanna wished she could send thoughts to non-Betazoids for what felt like the millionth time. _Play along, trust me._

“Uhm… Yes, I have.” She paused, still confused but willing to follow Deanna’s lead. “A few of the samples have started to grow multicolored filaments, it’s… remarkable.”

“That’s nice, it is fitting that something so useful would also be so beautiful. You’ll have to show me sometime.”

They spoke idly for a few minutes and kept their voices quiet. Beverly sent her a wash of understanding as soon as Will began to relax little by little. The space he had put between his mind and reality narrowed until Deanna could properly feel his presence again. A new feeling had surfaced in him as he calmed down: shame. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know that would happen.” His voice was less shaky than Deanna thought it would be, given his mental state. It was just like him to be able to hide all the turmoil, she thought. 

“It’s fine, Will, but we should probably all get off the floor so you don’t break your ribs again.” Beverly offered him a smile. “Do you want help up?”

He shook his head and Deanna wished it was because of his pride that he refused instead of the roiling, cold feelings that rolled off of him in waves. Disgust and fear, shame and embarrassment, hurt and exhaustion. It fell like a physical weight on her shoulders just as she knew it was on his own. The man pulled himself up using the edge of the bed and managed to situate himself properly under Dr. Crusher’s watchful eye. If Deanna were anyone else, any _thing_ else, she might have assumed he was feeling better. He looked calm and less withdrawn than before, but his feelings hadn’t changed or dulled since she arrived. They were missing something and she was terrified to find out what it was.

Instead of agonizing over it pointlessly, she sat down in the chair already pulled up to Will’s bedside as he picked at one of the remaining bandages around his abdomen. Beverly checked him over quickly and excused herself quietly. The doctor gripped Deanna’s shoulder as she left for her office and offered her a smile. Deanna looked back to Will and wanted nothing more than to take his hand, but was unsure of how he would react. 

Well, she figured there was no harm in asking. “Will, can I hold your hand? It’s alright to say no.” 

It looked for a moment like he was going to tease her for treating him so softly, but his genuine surprise and gratefulness won out. “Sure thing.”

It was a casual enough response, but his reaction when she did reach out to him was...concerning. His mind seemed to go to war with itself; relief and affection battling it out with a fresh wave of fear and some dark thing she could only guess was revulsion. A lot of the current situation was concerning. Deanna didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to assume anything past what she had read in the mission reports, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore. Her mind was tallying up all the warning signs.

Aversion to touch, dissociation, a sense of disgust and/or shame, difficulty speaking. There were probably more that she hadn’t witnessed yet that would be added to the list soon enough. Even though it pained her to admit it to herself, there was more going on than what had been reported. Kidnapping, threats of death, and getting beaten by hostile aliens was bad enough, but it didn’t explain his behavior. She had seen Will in the aftermath of just about all of the Enterprise’s misadventures, and all of this was new. 

There would be time to figure it all out later. In the meantime, she laced her fingers with Will’s and held on as tight as she dared.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter cw: depiction of panic attacks and vague references to kidnapping, sexual assault, and child abuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter fought me so hard and i had to rewrite it a few times, sorry for the delay! i hope you like it

Will hadn’t had an anxiety attack since he was seventeen. That fact wouldn’t feel like such a badge of accomplishment if life on the Enterprise was less stressful. It certainly shouldn’t feel like such a loss now that he was where he was; having an anxiety attack in some far-flung, mostly-abandoned hallway of his ship. 

It had been five days since he had been rescued and a few hours since Dr. Crusher kicked him out of the sickbay. He had been walking down the hallway from the turbolift when he saw her.

Even if he had spent the last five days preparing, even if he had been ready for it, he would not have been able to stop the flinch of fear when he saw her. 

A Malcorian. 

She was walking towards him down the hallway and hadn’t noticed him yet. It looked like she was on a tour of the ship and was being led by one of the science officers, so she wasn’t an intruder or attacker. None of that mattered much to his mental state, though, and he didn’t have the capacity amid the panic to recognize her. His instincts only gave him two bits of information: there is a Malcorian near you and you must _hide_.

So he had. With as much composure as he had available, he fled down an adjacent hall and took a few dozen turns until he was holed up in one of the access tunnels near the center of the deck. People only ended up along the access tunnels for a few reasons, but it boiled down to required maintenance and finding solitude. In any case, he was decently sure he wouldn’t be bothered, especially considering he was off-duty for at least another week.

With his safety ensured, the anxiety attack could sweep through him uncontested by adrenaline or rigid social obligations. 

That left him where he had been seated for the last hour or so, hyperventilating and staring off into nothing as he tried desperately to get back under control. Even the sight of the Malcorian had set something off in him. He could feel hands touching him even if none were there. He could see _her_ face even though he was certain he had left the nurse far behind in that hospital. The memories kept flooding over him and his skin crawled.

All he could hope was that he’d be left alone until he could calm down again.

“Data to Commander Riker.”

_Shit._

“Riker, come in please.”

He cleared his throat and breathed deeply for a short moment, hoping it was enough to tide him over. “Riker here. What do you need, Data?” His voice only shook slightly.

“Sir, Dr. Crusher told me to check on you and you were not in your room. Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, Data, I’m just stretching my legs.” He winced at the lie. He didn’t like lying to Data, but his self-preservation instincts won out and told him to keep everyone far, far away.

“Would you like company?” It was such an open, friendly offer that Will almost accepted it without thinking. 

“No, that’s okay.” 

“According to my obligation to Dr. Crusher, I would still like to check on you.” 

His control was slipping, though hearing from Data did help calm him a bit now that the initial shock had worn off. “I’m fine, Data.”

There was a pause. “Acknowledged.” 

The edge to Data’s voice worried him, but Will was too busy slipping back into his panic to think too much about it. It felt like his mind was getting penance for the short bit of composure it had given him. Within seconds, he was breathing too fast and too loud all over again.

It was like his consciousness had been split in two. One half wasn’t thinking. It breathed and it worried and clamped a hand over his mouth to keep his breathing quiet. The other half was far away. It retained clarity but was too distant to have any say in Will’s actions. Between the two of them, Will leaned against the wall and drifted. 

Apparently, part of that drift was through time. He wasn’t sure how long he sat against the cold metal of the ship, feeling like his lungs were dying inside of his chest. The burning felt similar to what he had felt in the Malcorian hospital. His skin itched and he felt her hands again. He felt the alien skin against his, even if it was only a memory. More and more pieces of himself were drawn away to that distant place in his mind. It was better that way, something told him, it was easier to pull away from the pain than to feel it.

After what felt like seconds and hours, Will heard something down the hallway. Footsteps. 

Typically in moments of distress or danger, he would be able to put on his visage of a perfect Starfleet commanding officer. The current situation was anything but typical. Instead of composing himself, Will let his instincts and flight response guide him into a gap in the wall. It was one of the Jeffries tubes that ran through the core of the Enterprise and gave him a convenient hiding spot. After scrambling as quickly and soundlessly as he could around the corner, he curled against the warm metal lining the tube and covered his mouth to mask his gasping breath.

There was a voice calling out in the hallway, a familiar voice, but Will was too far away. His mind was scattered into the past, the present, and the void of space between the two. He felt like a sixteen-year-old runaway all over again, hiding from his father in the crawlspace under their house. He felt like a fish in the bottom of a barrel. He felt hollowed out and empty. He felt like he was _dying_.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and Riker struck his attacker with desperation. 

Two arms appeared around him to restrain him and he brought an elbow down full-force on one of them to no avail. Every blow he dealt was blocked, deflected, or barely registered by his target. 

The hands caged him in, tried to pin him down, and the rushing in his ears got louder. 

Despite the noise, he could tell that his attacker was speaking, saying words he could barely hope to understand. It sounded too much like the Malcorian hospital, like nurses and doctors talking over his half-dead body. In the moment of blind fear that distracted him, the too-strong arms wrapped him up and had his hands pinned between their chests.

The next moment, Will’s body seemed to decide fighting was pointless without his say-so. He slumped against the shoulder he was held against and breathed. 

After a few moments of surrender, his mind calmed enough to comprehend the words being spoken to him. “Will, I promise that I will not hurt you. I understand that I surprised you and I am sorry.” 

Data had found him. 

He knew he would be embarrassed about it later, but the desperate fear melted away.

“Data-” His voice was weaker than he wished, but it was enough to get the android to loosen his grip slightly. 

“Yes, Commander.”

“Sorry.” 

“There is nothing to apologize for.” Will cursed the android for his selflessness. It would be easier to get an awkward forgiveness and then forget that the whole situation had never happened. Instead, Data was as kind and communicative as always.

“Yeah, right. I _hit_ you.” 

“With all due respect, sir, I do not think you are capable of damaging me without weaponry. In any case, I regret that I was less equipped to help you with…”

The android seemed to be considering his next words. Will took the moment to push against Data’s chest until he let him go. “Panic attack. It was a panic attack.” Data nodded at him, accepting the answer even though he had not really asked a question. 

“Are you ready to go back into the hallway or would you like to stay here for a while longer?”

Will suddenly realized how long he had been curled up in the tiny space of the Jefferies tube. His back whined at him belatedly and he glanced up at Data. “Let’s get outta here.” 

Before he could start crawling, Data wrapped his arms around Will again.

“Data?”

“I recently researched the concept of an individual looking as if they ‘needed a hug’. According to my knowledge, you fit the criteria to qualify as said individual.” 

Will smiled wide for the first time in nearly a week. “I’ll trust your research, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing dialogue for Data is so much fun istg. I'm autistic and his style of speaking is essentially what i default to when I'm nervous. he's just a funky little man. 
> 
> up next: Data and Will adventures continued!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: conversations regarding sexual assault and abduction. (thanks for waiting for this chapter, i moved a few hundred miles and started my second year of ~art school~ so i have been a leeeetle bit busy.)

It took a few minutes for the two of them to make it out into the service hallway and then to Will’s quarters. Data had insisted on walking him home, but Will didn’t really fight it to begin with. He was at the stage of the post-panic where his hands were shaking and everything felt just a few shades too bright. If Data noticed, all he did was put a steadying hand in the center of Will’s back as they walked. 

Will expected to be left at his door. He tried not to mourn the comfort of company preemptively, but the idea of being left alone now of all times felt like a punch in the gut. He would’ve chastised himself for being clingy in other circumstances, but these were _not_ those circumstances. He was tired and he didn’t want Data to leave. If anything, he wished that more of his friends were around, but that wish was matched toe-to-toe with embarrassment.

Luckily, it didn’t take any convincing to get Data to stay. When they reached Riker’s door, the android walked in by his side without saying a word. The door hissed shut behind them and Will sat heavily on one of the couches facing a window. It gave him something to look at instead of thinking about the woman in the hallway or…

Well, it was too late for that now. His breathing faltered for a moment and Data’s yellow eyes snapped to him.

“Commander?”

“Did uh… Did the first contact go well when I wasn’t looking? I saw one of the Malcorians walking around.” 

If Data seemed confused by Will brushing him off, he didn’t show it. “The Malcorian officials decided to cover up our presence and continue as normal until they are ready to tell their people about extraterrestrial life. The scientist who was designing the warp core engine asked to stay aboard the Enterprise in order to continue her scientific practice. I believe it will be interesting to learn about Malcorian culture through her.” 

Will nodded, trying not to look uncomfortable. “That’s quite the sacrifice, she won’t be able to go home.” 

“Does her presence bother you?”

“What? No!”

Data quirked his head to the side. “I was told that your experiences on Malcor III were traumatic in many ways. I assumed that-”

“I’m _fine_ , Data.” 

That got the android looking confused. “From what I have read about panic or anxiety attacks in humans, the effects of the attack can take hours to dissipate entirely. It has only been 7 minutes and 37 seconds since your breathing returned to a healthy rate and your behavior is still deviating from normal. I do not think that you are ‘fine’.”

It was more assertive than Will was used to hearing from Data. If he were human, Will would think he was being defiant. “Okay, then I _will_ be fine. Seeing her just gave me a bit of a shock.” 

Data stared at him for a moment and distantly he thought of Geordi joking about loading screens. He got the feeling that Data wasn’t going to let this slide. It felt like the memories were burning inside of him, aching to be set free, to make him bleed all over again. 

As it turned out, Data didn’t even have to ask. 

“It’s nothing, alright?” Will sank back into the couch and avoided Data’s eyes. “One of the nurses tried to help me escape the hospital. It didn’t work and I got beaten by a few guards. That’s really the last thing I remember before waking up in sickbay.”

“Did seeing Mirasta remind you of the guards’ attack?”

“No, I-” 

The denial came so fast he didn’t have time to think about it. Dammit, he should have just said yes. He should’ve taken the easy out when Data handed it to him and now he didn’t know where to start.

“She reminded me of the nurse.” 

Data looked more confused. “Was that what triggered the panic attack?” The android moved to sit on a nearby chair, sensing that the conversation might take some time.

He thought over his next words carefully, painfully aware of how nervous he probably looked. “The nurse didn’t help me out of the goodness of her heart, so to speak. She… wanted something from me.” When Data didn’t say anything, more words came tumbling out. “It shouldn’t be affecting me like this. She didn’t force anything onto me and I’m fine now.”

“I do not understand-”

“There’s nothing to understand, Data.” 

They sat in silence for a few seconds. 

“I think that you are not telling the truth. If this nurse did nothing to hurt you, then why would she be the cause of your distress?”

Will bristled defensively at the question. If it was anyone but Data asking, he might’ve said something cold and biting to get them to back off. Yelling at Data felt like a sin somehow, like seeing someone kick a dog. He bit his tongue and looked away, swallowing down the defensiveness before it could do any harm. 

“Would you like to talk more about this or move on to something else?” 

Will nearly smiled at the question. It was something that Deanna would ask. He was half-convinced to double down on the lie, to tell Data that everything was alright, that his panic was just about the beatings. 

The problem was, lying to Data felt just as wrong as yelling at him. 

Will sighed, curling into himself against the couch cushions. “Even if the nurse did hurt me, it doesn’t matter anymore. There’s nothing to do about it now.” He wasn’t expecting the words to hurt so much coming out of his own mouth. Hopelessness washed over him all over again, but this time it wasn’t dulled by panic. “The nurse told me she would help me escape if I slept with her.”

“And if you refused?”

“I couldn’t. I didn’t have a choice, they were _killing_ me.” 

“I think I understand.” Data shifted out of the corner of his eye, looking as uncomfortable as an emotionless being could. “Do you remember our encounter with Kivas Fajo?”

“That bastard that kidnapped you?” The memory cut through the hopelessness a bit, adding a touch of righteous anger. It was one thing for Riker to get hurt, but his friends were off-limits. 

“Yes. I believe the situations we dealt with are similar.” 

Will felt a chill go through him. Fuck, he really should’ve checked in on Data more after that mess. “Shit, I wish you really had shot him.”

Data didn’t smile, but looked a little less uncomfortable at Will’s reaction. “Counselor Troi helped me immensely after that experience. One thing that she convinced me of was that nothing I did during my time with Fajo was my fault. I was under the impression that while Fajo was forcing me into things, it was still, ultimately, my choice to follow through.” Will met Data’s eyes and the android held his gaze. “We were both doing what we had to in order to survive our respective situations. I was abducted, you were held under threat and raped-”

Will flinched and gasped in a breath. It felt like that one word had punched him in the gut. Either Data had stopped speaking immediately or Will’s ears had refused to hear any more of the sentence. He tried to get his reaction under control, but the word kept echoing around in his head like aftershocks. 

“You experiences matches the definition of rape by 83.7% of all legal codes I have analyzed, including that of Malcor III. I apologize if I have misspoke.” 

“It’s...it’s fine. I just wasn’t ready to hear it yet.” Some part of him -a wounded, childish part- made him want to hide from this conversation for the rest of his life. “Could we talk about something else?”

Data nodded and began explaining some experiments he was running jointly with the botany department. It was one-sided enough that Will could retreat into his mind by a few steps. Data had given him a lot to consider, but all of it was too sharp-edged for him to grasp. He wanted to be left alone, but the idea of being alone was terrifying. Over the course of the conversation, Data had moved close enough to him that Will could lean against him slightly.

“Seeing as Dr. Crusher asked me to report on your condition, I am sure she is worried about you. I believe it would be best to ”

Will hummed an affirmative, taking the minutes before Beverly arrived to compose himself. From what he heard through Data’s comm, she was just as concerned as Data had said. 

If he was being honest with himself, which he rarely was in times like this, he was looking forward to being fussed over, at least a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter may have taken me several weeks to write and rewrite multiple times, but at least I got to dunk on fajo!!! let me know what you thought in the comments!!!!! i hope the next chapter takes less time!!!!!
> 
> next up: the command crew gets up-to-date on what Will went through and get a little (a lot) protective and angry.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no content warnings for this chapter except a bit of implied distress and masking of emotions? let me know if i've missed anything

Every time a member of the bridge crew got injured or hurt in any way, Beverly was half-convinced to lock them in the sickbay until they were right as rain. Usually, that half-convincing was enough and she managed to keep them around for a few extra hours at least. 

From the moment Riker woke up, he looked like he was going to shake out of his own skin every moment he spent in her care. Knowing what he had gone through, she cut him loose long before she normally would. He wasn’t getting any better in sickbay and she couldn’t stand seeing him flinch away from every member of her team as well as herself. Beverly watched him walk away and promised herself that she would help him in any way that she could even if he was still afraid of her.

“Doctor Crusher? Where are you going in such a hurry?” Jean-Luc fell into step with her and she nearly leapt in surprise. 

“Captain! Gosh, you startled me.” Beverly smiled at him but didn’t slow down. It was nice walking with Jean-Luc: he wasn’t any faster or slower than her so they kept pace with each other thoughtlessly. “I’m going to check up on Will. Data told me he had some sort of panic attack.” 

“Is it alright if I come with you?” 

“Sure, as long as you don’t stress out my patient.” 

He shot a smile back at her, but there was worry creased around his eyes. “I’ll do my best not to, Doctor.”

They made their way to Will’s quarters quickly. Beverly felt a bit less frantic with Jean-Luc next to her. He never said it in so many words, but she was sure he felt the same. 

Whatever Will was dealing with, it was clear that he couldn’t handle it alone. He needed all of their support just as much as she did, just as much as Geordi, Deanna, Data, Worf, or even the Captain himself did. They were family and by the stars, she was not going to let Will down when he needed them most.

Of course, that was implying that they hadn’t failed him the _last_ time he needed them. He had been all alone, held captive in a hospital with no allies. She wasn’t so naïve to think that all hospitals were pure and respectable places. In fact, many hospitals had been central points during the third word war due to their stockpile of various drugs. She did, however, generally hope that places of healing did not do harm. It might be irresponsible at some moments, but the Hippocratic Oath she had taken upon becoming a doctor took priority over everything including the Prime Directive.

“You do not often get stuck in your head, Doctor. Should I be more worried about Commander Riker?”

She shook out of her thoughts. “I don’t know. I’ve seen him bounce back from worse than this within an hour, but he’s struggling. You should have seen him in sickbay, he could barely stand _Deanna_ touching him. He seemed a million miles away sitting right in front of me.” she sighed. “We’re missing something and I’m terrified to find out what.” 

“We’ll get through it, just like we always do.” 

He said it like a soldier going to war. They reached and faced Riker’s door together, shoulder to shoulder. Beverly clicked the doorbell and announced their arrival. Data’s voice granted them entrance, pleasant and businesslike as always. 

The door hissed open, showing Data and Will sat tucked together on one of the Commander’s couches. The man himself looked tired, but certainly not as broken as she had seen him in sickbay. Will followed her with his eyes warily as she and Jean-Luc approached the couch.

“How are you feeling, Will?” The captain rested a hand on his second’s shoulder. All of his movements were carefully telegraphed and Will didn’t flinch away. 

“Fine, now. Data got to play my knight in shining armor this time.” 

Jean-Luc laughed and Beverly felt relaxed enough to sit on one of the adjacent couches. Will glanced at her as she settled and gave her a sheepish smile. She returned it with an expression she hoped came off as comforting instead of strained. 

Will looked tired. He and the captain had gone on with their typical back-and-forth, but he was still noticeably zoned out. When there came a lull in the conversation, Beverly leaned forward - chin resting on her hands, elbows pressed to knees - into Will’s line of sight.

“Will…” she said his name with the most gentleness she could muster. Something in his expression fractured. “Will, what happened?”

As it turns out, that was just about all it took for the man to shatter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometimes...sometimes cliffhangers just happen without my permission please forgive me
> 
> next up: tangent waxes poetic about family dynamics for a thousand words or so and gives one william t riker the comfort he deserves


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *laughs nervously* i have no idea what the hell i'm doing, anyways try to ignore how much i love beverly crusher bc a lot of it leaks out in this chapter lmao
> 
> cw: vague, passing references to past sexual assault

It took him a while to get it all out. Will didn’t count the minutes of his confession, but it was long enough for all of them to sit around him and scoot ever closer until it felt like nothing in the universe could reach him. It also, apparently, bled together enough for someone -Beverly, probably- to call the remaining members of their family without him noticing it. Will didn’t mind any of it, really. He was man enough to accept the help not matter how much the coward in his gut kicked and screamed.

Will told them everything, not just the quiet horror of what the nurse had forced on him, and it felt better to force it out through tears than type it into a cynical mission report. He spoke with his eyes focused on the floor, unsure of what he was avoiding. 

He didn’t keep his mind on the words that left him. They had been rattling around inside of him for a week, aching to be set free. 

Deanna was next to him, opposite Data. His head rested on hers where she had leaned against his shoulder. Meanwhile, Data was diligently practicing a human tradition the crew was slowly teaching him, the elusive art of hand-holding. They both radiated the same calm they always did, albeit on different frequencies; tranquility of mind and of spirit. 

Picard looked as strong and sure as always, but Will could tell he was not calm. The Captain got angry quietly, after all. Will tried to keep in mind that he was probably not on the list of people Picard was angry with, but it was an uphill battle. 

If Geordi weren’t the beating heart of their family, he was at the very least the caretaker of it. The engineer seemed to be doing his damndest to keep the rest of them strong where Will could not. It was his nature, it seemed, to pick up any slack left over by the rest of them and then some. His presence was a relief.

Worf stood stock-straight in front of the door, easily playing the role of the bodyguard. Just as the rest of the crew kept him calm, Worf kept him safe. The moment he had arrived and took up his position, Will had stopped shaking. He reminded himself to do something nice for the Klingon later to thank him. 

Beverly, out of all of them, was the only person he could look in the eyes as he spoke. Every few moments, he would flick his gaze to her and saw the same warmth and kindness. It fueled him, kept him steady. She was the only one who hadn’t moved at all, like the lighthouse in a storm.

He spoke until he had no more words or descriptions left. 

They sat together quietly under the stars streaking by overhead, none of them willing to break the silence until…

Jean-Luc stood slowly and ruffled Will’s hair. “I’ll get Mirasta transported to another ship as soon as possible. I expect all of you will take care of number one until I get back.” 

With that, the tension in the room dissipated like fog. 

“You know it, Captain.” Geordi’s voice was quieter than usual, but Will knew he spoke for all of them. 

Even after Jean-Luc left the room, they didn’t swarm him as he had feared. Having Deanna, Data, and Beverly near him was nice, but any more people fencing him in would be...bad. He wasn’t up to having two panic attacks in one day, if he could help it. Instead, Geordi and Worf spoke quietly on the other side of the room while the other three stayed close enough to ground him without smothering him.

“Will, you’re safe here.” Deanna squeezed his arm gently.

“I know.”

She shifted, pulling her head out from under his. She looked Will in the eye as calmly and compassionately as always. At some point during his confession, she must have been crying and they were still a bit glassy. “This isn’t going to improve overnight. As head counselor I’m assigning you mandatory therapy and you can’t use your puppy-eyes to get out of it this time.”

Will laughed. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” After a moment, his smile died a bit. “Thank you all for… y’know.” 

“I believe the human saying is: ‘think nothing of it’, sir.”

“Sounds about right to me, Data.” Beverly nodded at the android and stood up from the couch. She crouched in front of him and caught his eye once more. “Is it alright if I check you over again? It’s just for my peace of mind. I won’t touch you or do anything that you’re not expressly comfortable with and you can tell me to back off at any time.” 

He gave his permission wearily, too tired to feign confidence, and tried his best not to shy away from the doctor as she worked. 

At some point, Geordi was called to engineering. Before he left, he promised Will that they would have dinner the next day as was their tradition after particularly stressful days. They were the only two members of their little family that truly appreciated fried food. 

Worf bid his own farewell, but he knew the Klingon well enough to guess that the chief of security was going to be standing vigil outside Will’s door for at least a few hours. After Data was rescued from Fajo, Worf had spent several days keeping a close watch on the android. Will had no doubt that his friend was going to do the same for him.

Beverly made a disapproving noise, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

“What is it?” 

“Nothing major, don’t worry. Your panic attack seems to have re-torn some of the cartilage in your ribcage. I’ll have it fixed in a second.” 

“Sorry.” His voice sounded timid even to his own ears.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. Now do me a favor and sit still.” 

The rest of the afternoon ran away from him. Deanna and Data spoke idly and Beverly’s equipment whirred. The doctor finished whatever procedure and put all the little machines down before sitting next to Deanna. They had all stopped speaking a while ago, choosing instead just to lean on one another and relax into the safety of the room and each other's company. 

When Jean-Luc returned to check on Will, he found three sleeping officers piled onto one very awake android. 

“Captain, I appear to be… stuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, i just couldn't resist the mental image of data dealing with the "something has fallen asleep on me so i am now morally compelled to stay completely still until it wake up" dilemma. 
> 
> EDIT: i kept trying to write a chapter to go after this but i couldn't really find enough strings to tie up, i guess. i'll probably end up writing a sequel/prequel to this fic at some point though! sorry for leaving you guys hanging!!! thanks for reading

**Author's Note:**

> comments give me writing fuel, let me know what you think! also, for those of you who're curious, _arare litus_ means 'wasted labor'.


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